Passing Along the Good
by honu59
Summary: Sometimes you don't get the chance to say good-bye. This one shot was written in loving memory of a dear friend.


_A.N. - Thanks to Tanith2011 for beta reading this so quickly and for her good advice._

 **Passing Along the Good**

 _for jodm_

Steve McGarrett had been in a somber mood all day, not that many people noticed. It wasn't unusual for the all-business, no-nonsense head of Five-O to wear a serious expression or speak few words outside of discussing the current case or issuing orders to his team. To most of his detectives and other office staff, nothing was amiss. But Dan Williams noticed. After years of working closely with the top cop, he could read his boss like no one else could.

So after everyone else had left for the day, Dan knocked on the polished koa wood door that led to McGarrett's private domain.

"Come in." The verbal invitation was not as commanding as it usually was.

"Hi, Steve," Williams greeted when he entered the office. The rays of the setting sun cast long shadows, darkening the room. The tall detective stood at one of the large windows with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out between the blinds at nothing in particular. After a few moments, Dan cleared his throat then voiced the question that had been on his mind throughout the day. "It seems like you've been distracted today. Is something wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?" Dan studied the profile of his boss's face for any sign indicating that the man might be willing to share his thoughts.

Finally, Steve turned to face his second in command and asked, "Danno, have you ever had someone come into your life, someone who made a big difference in who you are; what you became?"

 _Well, that's an easy question, I'm looking at him!_ "Sure, Steve. Why?"

McGarrett walked back to his desk and sat down with a sad sigh. "I just found out that one of my teachers passed away last month. I got the alumni newsletter from my high school in yesterday's mail and read her obituary. Danno, I've been thinking about her all day, wondering if she knew how much she meant to me. Her name was Sister Joseph Damien; we called her 'Sister Jo'."

"Sister?" Dan asked, taking his own seat in one of the white leather chairs in front of the big desk.

"I went to a Catholic high school."

Dan nodded but said nothing, giving Steve the opportunity to continue if he so chose. Williams had been in this position with his mentor before and he knew that the best he could offer was a listening ear and his undivided attention.

"You know, my father was killed when I was thirteen," Steve continued slowly, as if reliving the experience with each word. "I went through some rough years back then. My attitude wasn't the best and my school work suffered." He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat before he went on. "Then in tenth grade, I was put in Sister Jo's biology class. She had a special way with rebellious teenagers, Danno. These days, they'd probably call it 'tough love.' She told it like it was and didn't put up with any nonsense, but somehow you knew that she was on your side."

Dan smiled at the description that, to him, sounded so familiar. _Teachers really do make a difference. So do top state police detectives._

"I don't know why, but she seemed to take a special interest in me. I had always dreamed of attending the Naval Academy, but I didn't have the necessary grades or the discipline. But all that changed in tenth grade. By the end of the year, I had earned a B in her biology class, and I do mean _earned._ By the time I was a senior, I was a different person: motivated and ambitious about my studies, completely squared away. That year, I was in her chemistry class and got an A, which was no easy feat. When she found out that I wanted to go to Annapolis, she went the extra mile and wrote several letters of recommendation on my behalf. Her father was a navy man; maybe she saw something of him in me."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Dan asked.

At that question, Steve closed his eyes, willing away a tear that threatened to fall. "At my mother's funeral. That was seven years after I had graduated from high school, but she still came. I can't tell you how much that meant to me."

"Were you able to tell her?"

"No. My mother had died suddenly and there were too many details to take care of. I was probably in shock and Mary Ann…well, I was really worried about her. I never really had the chance to speak to Sister Jo after the funeral Mass." Steve's voice dropped to a whisper. "Now it's too late."

"Steve, sometimes we don't get a chance to say all that we want to…to say good-bye," Dan said gently, remembering his own sudden, painful losses. _Chinough... Jane..._ "It's just an unfortunate part of life. But from what you've told me about Sister Jo and from the man that I know you are, she has every reason to be very proud of you. In a way, you're passing along all the good she did in her life by the way you are living yours."

Dan's words brought a wistful smile to Steve's face. "Thanks, Danno. I hope that you're right."

"I have no doubts about it, Steve," Dan said with a heartfelt smile. "Now let's get out of here. I'll spring for dinner."

"You're on," Steve replied with his own quick grin, his sorrow eased by opening up to a good friend. The big man redid the top button of his dress shirt and cinched up his tie. Then the two detectives turned out the lights and locked the doors for the night.

They made their way down the grand staircase of the Iolani Palace in silence, each man engaged in his own thoughts. Williams tried to imagine his highly dedicated, by-the-book boss as a rebellious teenager. It wasn't easy. Then Dan realized that he also owed a debt of gratitude to the science teacher from long ago who had helped make Steve McGarrett the man he was today, the man whom Dan admired and respected more than any other. When they exited the old building, he looked up at the peaceful starlit sky and expressed that gratitude in his heart. _Mahalo, Sister Jo._

 **Pau**


End file.
